Passions of a Gentleman (Gentlemen of Honor Book 3) (12 page)

“If you speak of that old goat I saw you with at that unsightly museum, I can understand your feelings. But what of the others?”

“What others?” She laughed shakily. “There weren’t any others.”

“Hmmm, and here I thought I was the only one you rebuffed.” His lips itched to kiss her cheek, but he refrained. “I wish you had told me you didn’t have any interest in Mr. Fisher before I wasted so many nights this week dreaming up ways for you to snare him,” he teased. “Alas, your future is not nearly as bleak as you might think. Your Prince Charming is out there. We just have to look a little harder.”

“We? Don’t you think you need to be looking for your own Princess Charming?”

Not unless you’re offering yourself for the position.

R
ae frowned
at Simon’s strange expression followed by his sudden coughing fit.

“I know you think I’m charming and humorous and all of that, but your reaction is a little much, wouldn’t you say?”

Simon held up a single finger and coughed one last time. “I wasn’t laughing,” he clarified, his face a dark red. “I was choking.” He sliced a hand through the air before resuming his hold on her. “Never mind me. Let’s just say my search for my Princess Charming as you’ve termed her is just a wee bit more complicated.”

“Oh, are men who have lost their virginity considered unfashionable this Season?”

The left side of his mouth tipped down into a frown. “No, but virgins who unknowingly pursue married ladies and their mysterious half-brother’s betrothed are.”

Shame washed over her. While she’d been able to keep her own misdeed covered up, London was still buzzing about Simon’s pursuit of Lady Belgrave. She placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he said on a sigh. “I’ve muddied these waters myself.”

“Would you care to talk about it?” She didn’t realize until she’d said those words just how much she wanted to hear his side of things. Not because she wanted some juicy gossip to share around town, but she was truly interested.

“No, I don’t wish to drive you to tedium with tales of my stupidity.”

“It might make you feel better to talk about it,” she said, running her knuckle against his chiseled jaw. “I know I feel better telling someone.” She dropped her hand back to her lap and gave him a slim smile. “I gave Lady Townson a much abbreviated version consisting of the words: I’m ruined in truth. Then let her overactive imagination fill in the details.”

A wide grin split Simon’s face. “All right, you win.” He reached one of his ungloved hands up and finding a loose tendril of her hair, wrapped it around his finger. “It all started out with the best of intentions.” He released a hollow chuckle. “Unfortunately, it ended up worse than an overturned carriage.” He shook his head. “Are you sure you want to hear this?”

Rae wiggled her bottom a little against his lap and then leaned her head against his chest. “I have the most comfortable seat I could imagine.”

“Well, I don’t,” he said under his breath.

Panic and a tinge of embarrassment shot through Rae. Did he think she was too heavy? She attempted to scurry off his lap, but his strong hands held her there.

“Stop,” he ground out. “It’s that gentleman’s curse again. But it’ll stop if you’ll stop.”

Rae searched his eyes. He didn’t appear upset and if he truly wanted her off of his lap, he’d have let her, wouldn’t he?

“In April, I met Isabelle Knight,” he began, heedless to her thoughts. “My father suggested I befriend her as she was new to London and shadowed by a scandal that would keep her from having a friend in the world—no matter how large her dowry.”

Rae settled back against him, listening to his heavy breathing.

“At first she was just an acquaintance—”

“But you always danced with her.” Rae covered her mouth with her fingers. “Sowwy,” she said against her fingers.

Simon pulled her hand away. “It’s all right. I asked you questions.” He intertwined their fingers and then lowered their hands to her lap. “My mother is as bad as Lady Townson,” he said as if that explained everything—and it did. “She was just a friend, if you could call her that—” he shrugged— “but when Giles came…”

His jaw clenched and a muscle ticked in his cheek.

“Giles is Lord Norcourt, your half-brother from your mother’s first marriage,” she said more so he wouldn’t have to. Though she, and perhaps many others in the
ton
, wondered if there wasn’t a little more to that story.

He nodded once. “My mother married Lord Norcourt when she was younger than you. She never spoke of either of them while I was a child only of my father—and me. When I was a wee lad I asked her if I’d ever have any brothers or sisters.” A shadow covered his face. “Her eyes grew distant and she said that she’d had one other child but he’d been born with his life’s cord wrapped around his neck…” He shook his head once. “That’s all she said and I just assumed…”

Rae’s chest constricted painfully. Though he’d told her as much the other day, it seemed different this time. He seemed different this time.

“That’s all she ever said about Giles.” He scoffed. “I don’t think she even ever mentioned his name. Then one day he just appears and she’s now being titled as Lady Norcourt and playing his hostess.” The raw emotion in Simon’s voice sent chills down her spine and she understood why this telling was different: it had been more than just Giles’ appearance that had cut him so. He swallowed audibly. “I was afraid,” he said raggedly. “In less than ninety seconds my entire existence had been altered. My mother had taken on a new identity. My father, who’d always been my closest ally, stood back and watched in awe as she gushed and showered motherly attention on a stranger who looked exactly like me…and him.”

Rae ached for him.

Licking his lips, he continued, “I was losing my family and didn’t know what else to do so I—” he pressed his lips together and lifted his eyebrows— “proposed to a married woman. Of course I didn’t know she was married. It seemed like the best option for both her and me. She needed someone and with my entire family structure crumbling about my ears, it seemed the most logical solution. We agreed to have an abbreviated courtship at a house party and if we thought we could tolerate the other for the rest of our lives, we’d marry.”

“Did it work?” She couldn’t believe she asked that, but something inside her needed to know. “I mean, before you knew she was married.”

“No.” His response was quick, concise, and definite. He sighed. “She’s pretty to look at, but that’s where it ends.” Something flickered in his eye that made her insides flip. “Well, at least where I’m concerned. When she and Lord Belgrave are in the room she transforms into someone else.”

“Does that bother you?”

“No. If he can draw a personality out of her then I’d say he deserves to have her as his wife.”

“So you have no feelings whatsoever for her?”

Simon choked on his laugher. “No. Nor for Lucy.”

“Is she the one from the museum?”

“Yes.”

“And she’s marrying Giles?” she asked, trying to put the pieces together.

Simon grimaced. “Yes.”

“I see…”

“No, you don’t,” he said with smile. “At the house party where Isabelle and I were supposed to be courting, it was Giles who informed me that Isabelle was still Lady Belgrave.” He closed his eyes for an extended blink. “I believe his exact words were, ‘she’s taken.’ Anyway, whether it was because I felt angry with Isabelle for not telling me herself or perhaps it was just irritation for Giles in general, I’m not sure, I decided to leave the party but was in no hurry to go home where I knew my father would pepper me with questions about my mother and Giles. I decided to take a different route and after a nasty encounter with some highwaymen, I came to lying naked in a strange bed with an inquisitive twelve-year-old boy hovering over my face.”

Rae bit the inside of her cheek.

“It’s all right, I know you want to laugh,” he said, grinning at her.

She returned his grin. “I’m sure you did well.”

“Not well enough—even with the boy,” he said. “When Lucy returned from town that day she asked for the name of a relation to come help me, and I gave her Giles’ name and current direction, certain he wouldn’t actually come.” He smiled and shook his head ruefully. “Wouldn’t you know that confounded transient was there in record time? Lucy and her son Seth were immediately under his spell.”

“I’m sorry,” she said again.

“Oh, don’t be. It’s for the best. I just wish I had realized that before I made a complete arse of myself.” He turned his head to the side and coughed. “Repeatedly.”

“Surely, it’s not so bad.”

“You do remember that horrible statue museum, do you not?” he asked, his eyes dancing with laughter.

“Of course.” She could never forget such a horrible establishment for as long as she lived.

“Lucy lost her post for taking care of me and came to work in Mother’s lending library. I tried to pursue her, but Giles won her.”

The muscles in Rae’s shoulders stiffened. “It sounds to me as if you’re not as accepting of her choice as you’d have me believe.”

Simon started. “No!” He cleared his throat. “No,” he tried again. “It’s not her. It’s him.” Something about his words told her he was telling the truth, and she relaxed again. “Lucy was sweet and though too curious for his own good, Seth was all right, too, but what rankles me the most is who she chose: Giles. Just the same as Mother and Father. It’s not that I wish him ill… I just—” He exhaled a shaky breath. “I don’t know. I just hate how he came to London after all of these years and stole everything from me.”

Rae pulled her hand from his and looped her arms around his neck, pulling his head close to hers. The promise that Giles could never steal her from Simon was on the tip of her tongue, where it died. She
wasn’t
Simon’s. For as much as she might long to be, he didn’t see her that way.

“Now that we’ve each revealed our deepest secrets to each other, shall we go back to the fair?”

“Must we?” She could think of a thousand other places she’d rather be.

“We must if your heart is still set on a lemon ice.”

“And if I’ve set my heart on something else?”

F
or as much
as Simon hoped she meant those words to mean she was in love with him, the last shred of logic he still possessed told him to back away. She was hurting and vulnerable right now and as much as he might hate to say it, so was he.

“Well, my dear, Miss Hughes, if your current heart’s desire is for solilemmes, I spotted a vendor just south of the bakery where we ate cake the other day.”

“Solilemmes?” Her face lit. “I’ve only had a bite of one once.”

“Let’s go back to the, fair and you can have a bite of as many as you want,” he said, helping her to her feet. He offered her his arm, noticing the cold hesitation that had come over her face. “It’ll be all right. I won’t leave your side.”

“But what if Mr. Fisher…”

“Then I’ll knock out all of his remaining teeth with my fist,” Simon finished.

Rae dropped her head into her hands. “I stooped very low, didn’t I?”

Going against his better judgment yet again, Simon reached for her hand. “We’ve all resorted to the unimaginable when it comes to wanting to feel loved.” He forced a smile. “Please, don’t make me remind you of Lady Belgrave and the soon-to-be Lady Norcourt again.”

Taking his lead, she started walking with him on the path back to town. “Is it safe to assume the words mister and Fisher will never pass your lips ever again?”

They reached a fallen log and Simon helped her over. “Unless I am called before the magistrate to explain why he was left battered and bruised,” he continued. “I shall never mention him again.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“He should be the one hoping.” He reached forward and moved a branch out of the way for her. “But I have a feeling we won’t be hearing much from him again.”

“You haven’t already left him battered and bruised, have you?”

“You don’t think it’s for the solilemmes that I want to go back to the village, do you?”

“It’s not?” she asked, feigning shock.

“No.” He squared his shoulders, puffed out his chest, and lifted his chin a notch. “It’s to receive a hero’s welcome.”

Rae’s infectious laughter filled the air. “You’re incorrigible.”

“You know you like it.”

* * *

H
e wasn’t wrong
, drat him. She did like it. His humor was almost as addicting as was his embrace.

Companionable silence engulfed them as they walked back to the village, and Simon led her to the solilemmes vendor. “We’ll take two,” he told the man, reaching into his pocket.

The vendor poked two plump rolls and extended them toward Simon who gave him a few coins then took the rolls. He handed one to Rae.

Immediately, she sank her teeth into that dense cake of yeast and creamy goodness.

“Is it as good as you remembered?” Simon asked.

“Better,” she said, savoring her bite.

Simon held up his sweet roll. “Good because this one is for you, too.” He winked. “No protests.”

“And if I do?”

He bent his head, bringing his lips next to hear ear. “Then I’ll feed it to you. Bite by bite.”

“For some reason I think the rake in you would enjoy that.”

“There you two are!” Lucas hollered, running over to them. “Peter said you were going to shoot someone with a bow and arrow!”

“Only Mr. Fisher,” Rae blurted, making the trio laugh.

“I’d gladly pay Peter two hundred pounds if you do,” Simon said.

Rae appreciated his generosity. “No, I believe the bet was that I wouldn’t hit anyone and if you and Peter would still like me to prove my skills, I will.” She stuffed another bite of her bun in her mouth. “But not until I finish this.” She frowned. Where had her manners gone? “Actually, this is too big. I don’t think I can eat any more. Lucas, would you like the rest?”

“No,” Simon cut in. “You choke down the rest of yours. Lucas can have this one.” He extended the other roll to Lucas. “He’s a growing boy, Rae. He needs a whole one.”

Lucas wasted no time taking the roll from Simon. He murmured what might pass as a thank you then took a bite so large it'd be a wonder if he didn’t choke on it. “Come, let’s go shoot,” he said a moment later around a mouth full of food. He brushed some crumbs from his chin then waved them in the direction of the archery setup.

Before Rae could move a staying hand fell on her wrist. “I’ll fulfill my end of the bet if you’d rather not shoot.” Simon said, his voice soft and his eyes full of understanding.

Rae popped the last bite of her roll into her mouth. “No, I think I’ll try for the two hundred pound target.”

Just as she’d hoped, Simon chuckled. “Bloodthirsty wench.”

She grabbed his hand and gave it a little pull. “Just be glad it’s not your blood I wish to spill.”

He flipped his hand over, holding hers, palm to palm. “Is it official, then?”

Rae searched his green eyes. “Is what official?”

“That I’ve gained your favor?”

She nodded once. “I’d say this afternoon’s revelations far surpass you seeing me…” a heated blush crept up her face, “er…you know.”

Simon’s eyes darkened as he did a slow sweep of her from head to toe. “Indeed.”

“We’d better go,” she whispered.

Simon nodded once then allowed her to lead them back to the archery area.

“It’s you again!” said the toothless man standing next to the rack of bows, eyeing Rae in the most unnerving way.

“I’ll pay one hundred and fifty pounds if you shoot him,” Simon whispered in Rae’s ear.

“Do it, Henny, and we’ll split it,” Lucas said excitedly.

“Stuff it, Lucas,” Peter said, a serious expression his face. “The wager is off.”

“Off,” Simon, Rae, and Lucas echoed in unison.

“Off,” Peter confirmed, his expression rigid and unyielding.

Rae reached for her brother. “Peter? What’s wrong?”

A muscle in his cheek ticked. “Nothing.” He looked over her head to Simon. “I declare from this moment on he shall never be referred to as a toff again.”

Rae exchanged looks with Simon over her shoulder. Something wasn’t right. She said her brother’s name again, but he backed away then stalked off.

“I’ll go talk to him,” Simon said.

* * *

S
imon cursed his quick tongue
. He’d barely spoken to a child before this week, now he was offering to go talk to one about whatever it was that was bothering him. Gads, he’d lost his mind!

“Peter, wait,” Simon hollered.

The boy continued on and Simon picked up his pace. What was it about this family and walking away from their problems? Literally.

“Peter, stop,” he bit out.

Peter came to an abrupt stop and Simon nearly slammed into his back.

“Can I talk to you?” Simon asked.

“Can I stop you?” Peter challenged.

Simon grinned. “No.” He gestured to a vacant bench nearby. “What’s troubling you all of a sudden?” he asked without ceremony as soon as the two sat down.

Peter didn’t answer.

“Surely you’re not sore because your sister hit the target on her second practice shot,” Simon ventured.

“No.”

Simon let out a deep exhale and steepled his hands in front of his lips. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me.”

“You can’t help me any way,” Peter said hollowly.

“Perhaps,” Simon allowed. “But you don’t know if you don’t tell me what you need help with.” He crossed his ankles in front of him. They could be there a while. “Is this about a girl?”

“No.” Peter’s hesitation made Simon’s stomach clench.

“The inability to lie is clearly not in your family’s bloodline.”

Peter scoffed. “I’m not lying. She’s a woman. But it’s not what you think.”

“All right,” Simon said slowly. “Is she here?”

Peter sighed. “You’re relentless.”

Simon didn’t think so, but would take what he could. “It’s my single fault, I’m afraid.”

At that, Peter snorted. “I’m sure you have more than one. You are a toff, after all.”

Shaking a finger at the lad, he said, “I do believe you just broke your own decree.”

Peter threw his hands into the air. “Guilty.” He dropped his hands back into his lap with another sigh. “I wish things could have been different.”

“Different how?”

Peter stared at him. “Can I trust you with a secret?”

“That depends. Is it yours to tell?”

The lad’s lips twisted in contemplation. “I—I don’t know.”

“How do you not know?”

“It isn’t
my
secret. I mean, I’m not the one who did something,” he clarified. “It’s about—”

Simon lifted a hand, halting the boy’s words before he said too much. “Before you say something that can’t be unsaid and unheard, is it necessary to solve your problem that I know this secret?”

“That depends,” he said with a chuckle, then sobered and pierced Simon with his grey eyes. “Just how genuine is your love for my sister?”